Dancing Through Life
by absolute power
Summary: De-anoning from the kink meme with a very short US/UK one-shot. Like their relationship, their imperfect dance has no direction, no pattern to follow. It's the night of France's birthday party, but the evening belongs to them alone.


Once again, de-anoning from the kink meme. The prompt was dancing + size kink, and I really hope I was able to capture it well! :D This is really short and terribly sappy, so I'd appreciate constructive criticism on it since I've never really tried to write things like this before. Please help me improve! :D

http:// hetalia-kink. / ?thread=34955383#t34955383 was the original fill on the kink meme. :) Please remove the spaces.

Also, the little scene between France and England, affectionately known as the tango of death, has also been posted. If you would like to read it, it's here:  
http://www. /s/5822583/1/ Dance_With_The_Devil (please remove the spaces)

Thank you very much for clicking, and I'd love you forever if you review!

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It was no secret to the nations that England was a killer dancer.

In fact, it was probably the only reason he was invited, every year without fail, to Francis' birthday ball. It was a very good thing he enjoyed dancing so much, England mused, else he would have rejected all the invitations with a sound "sod off, you bleeding wanker" and a V-sign, just to see France cringe at the sheer _British-ness_ of it. As it was, he was standing against one of the pillars of France's house, watching richly dressed nations and politicians drink and dance themselves into oblivion. A few were still eyeing him with awe and hunger- England smirked. He _had_ given them quite the show earlier, with the heated, hate-filled tango he had shared with France himself. The poor man was nowhere to be seen; he was probably off trying to catch his breath.

A hand was shoved at him, disrupting his thoughts. "Wanna dance?" A familiar voice asked, uncaring of politeness. Or perhaps, this was polite for him.

England looked up slowly, meeting America's twinkling blue eyes half-hidden in the glare reflected by his glasses. He gulped, fighting down a blush and telling himself that the sudden heat was a result of still being tired from the previous tango. Nevertheless he put his hand in America's, and allowed himself to be guided back to the dance floor.

The pianist had already begun the waltz, but the two nations fell into place, although England did so with some confusion.

"This isn't the opening position for a waltz, America."

America beamed at him. "Isn't it? You know me, I never really cared about those stuff. I just want to dance."

England had to smile at that, then his expression darkened. He knew all too well what America thought of the formality and artistry of ballroom dancing- he himself had tried to teach the young colony its beauties, but had failed miserably.

America caught his expression, and understood. A frown passed briefly over his face, then he placed his hand on England's lower back and tugged him forward, closer. And, wordlessly, they began to move.

It wasn't a waltz, England was right about that. It wasn't any dance he had ever encountered. America was making it up as he went along, not caring about precision or form or even how it looked- but putting his heart into the dance all the same.

England followed America's clumsy lead expertly, catching his balance when America faltered and side-stepping when they were about to bump into another pair. His thoughts began to wander, and suddenly he was extremely aware of America's large hand, holding his own, smaller one gently- not in a bruising grip like France had, but almost tenderly.

"So, England..." America tried to make conversation, keeping the awkwardness a little at bay. "That was some dance earlier, huh?"

England laughed. "It was good to see France knocked down a peg," he admitted. Without meaning to, his eyes traveled down from America's face to his shoulders, and chest, and then to the hand clasping his. He marveled at the differences between them- America's tanned, work-calloused skin against his own soft paleness, broad fingers encircling his slender hand. Under America's suit he could feel the ripple of muscle as he moved in the dance, and England was struck with awe.

America tugged him even closer, and England breathed in his sharp cologne, reveling in the warmth around him. It wasn't often he was able to let his guard down, but here, wrapped tightly in America's arms, he felt safe.

They danced with no form, focused instead on bringing themselves as close to each other as possible. England's other hand moved to wrap around America's neck, interlacing his fingers. He had to stretch to do it, but he liked the feeling of holding on to that body so much larger than his own, stable and secure and so very strong.

America leaned forward suddenly, forcing England into a low dip, and whispered softly, without malice, _you used to be so big._

England closed his eyes, shivering at the memory it brought up, but there was a hint of reverence in America's voice that was so unlike that day that he relaxed in his hold, confident that he would not be left to fall. America's grip only tightened around him and he straightened them both up suddenly, making England dizzy and flushed. _Vertigo_, he told himself. _Simply vertigo._ But he rested his head on America's broad chest and sighed.

They spun across the dance floor again, England's slim body wrapped in America's much larger one. England relaxed, no longer thinking of form or precision, allowing himself to be led by the one who once followed him. America lifted him suddenly, supporting him steadily by the grip on his waist, and England smiled with delight at the feeling. America set him down lightly, and they began anew, all impromptu steps and unplanned moves.

Securely held in America's strong, muscled arms, feeling his large hands rest gently against his waist, England felt more protected than he had ever felt before.

"You've grown much bigger than I thought you would," he murmured.

"Is that a bad thing?"

England smiled. "No. Not at all."


End file.
